Frustration
by nicoleb
Summary: What happens when two arrogant, frustrated underlings of Cort's are left together in a room unsupervised? Probably not this, but hey, that's what fanfiction is for, right? XD One-shot; Songi/Jette; implied, one-sided Songi/Gala, Jette/Cort and Zora/Cort; slash; non-canon.


**Thanks to Barako for the fic title! :)**

**What the heck is this?! Songi/Jette? Was I high when I wrote this? XD Well, no. It just came to me, for some reason, and I've been working on it on and off for quite a while. Don't worry - there's nothing too hardcore in this. Just some kissing between the two because... I was bored? ;D**

**Songi and Jette look quite similar, which I think was the main inspiration. xD We don't learn much about Jette in the game, sadly. After looking at clips from the Japanese version of the game, I found that Jette is very polite and articulate in the way he speaks, so I can actually picture him acting a bit like he does in this fic. Songi's behavior might be a bit harder to accept, but I like to think he's fairly IC (for the most part). If you're a Gala/Songi Shipper, I think you'll agree. :D To anyone else who reads this fic, I apologize in advance. :P**

******Warnings: Songi/Jette; implied, one-sided Songi/Gala, Jette/Cort and Zora/Cort; slash; non-canon.**

_Chapter 1_

Jette watched Songi loitering over in the opposite corner of the Floating Castle, leaning against a wall and reading a book about the legends of Legaia, a book which Jette personally considered to be 95% mythology and 5% fact.

Songi had been in a bad mood ever since the cursed Ra-Seru heroes had managed to revive the Genesis Tree in Sol Tower's underground. Understandable, considering it _had_ been all his fault to begin with. Though easily strong enough to take them on himself, he'd insisted upon getting some frail, insane old man to fight for him - and then acted _surprised_ when this had failed.

For the last several days, Songi had been sulking adamantly, snapping at anyone who came near him who wasn't Lord Cort, and Jette had the feeling Songi was even forcing himself to remain civil with their leader. Rude, arrogant and outspoken as he was, he at least showed a decent amount of respect for Lord Cort, even though Jette thought this had more to do with common sense than it did with genuine admiration.

Even the Delilas siblings, whom Songi usually got along okay with, had of late been on the receiving end of much of the guy's tasteless, horribly unwitty insults. The result hadn't been pretty at all, since the Delilases were hardly the type of people to take such things lying down.

In fact, right now was one of the few moments of peace the floating fortress had had over the past few days. Between Songi's arguments with the Delilas siblings, Zora's constant nagging, and Lord Cort always needing so much help with his plans, Jette had barely gotten any sleep at all that week.

Of course, Lord Cort wasn't to blame for that, and neither were the Delilases, really. They were fairly respectful and unintrusive most of the time, even if they were unjustly arrogant and had a terrible judge of character. But they'd responded so heartily to Songi's recent hobby of baiting them, Jette sometimes wasn't sure which of his colleagues he hated more.

Still, he supposed, at least Songi wasn't _as_ bad as Zora, and at least he did take the stuck-up woman off her high horse every now and then. Zora could give it back just as hard as she got it though, and Jette fondly looked forward to a time when she and Songi would snap and murder each other, which honestly didn't seem like such a farfetched possibility these days.

"Hey, you!"

Jette was forced abruptly out of his thoughts at the sound of Songi's voice. He looked over at him, trying not to voice any of his annoyance. The last thing he wanted now was to break the precious hour or two of peace he had.

"Don't you have something to do?" Songi said, balancing the book lightly on his right hand as he spoke. "I mean, I know I'm awesome, but that's no reason for you to stand there staring at me like a weirdo."

Jette gritted his teeth in irritation. After all this time, Songi had never bothered to make use of his name. He was always 'you,' 'nerd,' 'mad scientist' or any other 'creative' names the bastard could think up.

_Don't let him get to you. Don't. Remain civil..._

Only half-listening to his inner-rationale, Jette replied:

"I see you're reading. That makes a nice change. If you keep at it, you might actually be able to pick up some basic intelligence."

Songi abruptly dropped the book onto the floor, where it landed with a loud _thump_, and stood up straight. It didn't take much to get him worked up at all.

"Hey, shut up, _reddie_! Who cuts your hair anyway? It looks like a Red Piura curled up there and died!"

Jette laughed softly. Despite his desire for the continued calm and quiet, he found himself rather enjoying seeing Songi get so angry. After all the irritation he'd caused him over the last couple of days, it was nice to see their roles getting reversed, if only for a short time.

"My hair is more or less the same as yours, Songi," Jette said, touching a strand of his own spiked, red hair fondly. Songi smirked.

"You wish, old man! I'm the sexist guy who ever lived!"

Jette shrugged.

"Well, regardless, you're extremely incompetent. You couldn't do anything with those stupid brats the other day, _and_ you let them beat you twice before that."

It occurred to Jette later that he hadn't refuted Songi's claim of being the sexist guy who ever lived, and he came to regret that sorely for a good while after.

Songi's powerful fists clenched. It was clear that he was itching for a fight, and Jette half-hoped he'd try to get one. He knew he could take the teen easily.

"As if _you've_ done anything!" Songi said. "You've just been sitting here this whole time while I do all the work!"

Jette struggled not to laugh. Was _that_ the best this idiot could do?

"Lord Cort hasn't sent me because he knows that three kids would be no challenge to me. Hell, they shouldn't even be a challenge to _you_, considering you have such a powerful Seru."

As Songi glared at him, Jette, on a roll now, went on:

"Are you sure you didn't let them win on purpose? I mean, that over-muscled man with the anger-problem... he's your childhood friend, right? Maybe you just don't _want_ to kill him?"

Songi blushed a deep crimson that almost matched his hair and stuttered for several seconds before managing to reply.

"Sh-Shut up, mad scientist. I couldn't care less about Gala anymore."

Jette looked at the younger man curiously, really interested now. He hadn't meant what he'd said; he'd only said it because he'd known it would get amusing results. But Songi's reaction...

_Ah, so _that's_ how it is._

The fact that he even called Gala by name was something to note. Songi didn't use names that much, not even for people he supposedly tolerated or respected. For example, he seldom used the Delilas siblings' names, and he rarely called Cort anything but 'sir.' Everyone else - Zeto, Zora, Dohati, him, the two other Ra-Seru brats - got creative substitutes, Jette's favorite of which was 'sorceress-bitch' for Zora.

"_Anymore_?" Jette repeated, his lips curving upward into a sly smile. "Oh, my. So you admit you cared about him in the past, then?"

Songi immediately realized his mistake, and his face became, if possible, even redder.

"N-No! I didn't mean it like that! I've always hated that bastard."

"I'm _sure_, Songi," Jette said smoothly. "And that's why you're always helping him rather than killing him."

Songi gaped at him stupidly.

"Wh-What?! When have I ever helped Gala?!"

_There's the use of his name again..._

"Well, you took down that forcefield you made around the Genesis Tree at Mt. Letona when he asked you to," Jette said, referring to an incident which had happened about a month before.

"That was because he actually managed to beat me!" Songi said, sounding close to desperate now. He really _was_ determined to deny these accusations. "I promised I'd take my forcefield down if they could beat me, and-"

"Why?" Jette interrupted, once again stifling the urge to laugh. "Because you're so _honorable_? Since when do _you_ care about honor? You attacked and killed your own people, and you tried to beat up two _kids_."

Songi opened his mouth to respond, but Jette quickly cut him off, guessing what he was going to say.

"Oh, I know I'm no better, mind. But then, I'm not the one trying to reject my repressed, secret gay love for my best friend here, am I?"

Songi blushed even harder, a real look of panic visible on his face for the first time.

_Interesting._

"You shut the hell up right now, old man!" Songi said in a slightly trembling voice.

Jette wouldn't though. He was enjoying himself too much. Songi deserved all this and more for the misery he'd been putting him through these past few days.

"Hey, it's okay, Songi," he said in a falsely soothing voice. "There weren't many girls where you grew up, were there? It's only natural that you'd fall in love with Gala-"

That did it. The next second, Songi had rushed forward and closed the several meters' distance between them in barely a second. His hands were curled into a combination of fists and cups, as though he couldn't make up his mind over whether he wanted to beat up Jette or try to strangle him.

Trained strictly in the ways of Biron, Songi was extremely powerful and fast, especially with his Sim-Seru. But Jette, older, more experienced and better used to his Seru, was able to dodge his lunge with relative ease.

Songi, still in mid-spring, all but hit the wall Jette had been standing near and had to take a moment to steady himself and get back his bearings. While he was, Jette, in the same movement as his dodge, turned back around and grabbed his colleague by the upper-chest with both hands, just as Songi was turning back around to face him.

Without waiting, Jette pushed him back up against the wall, leaning forward to put more weight behind his grip. This caused the two men to be virtually face to face, something that Jette normally would've hated but that right then only added to his glee.

"Not so fast, my friend," he breathed heavily into the younger man's face.

Songi glared at him, but he didn't struggle, which Jette found somewhat surprising. Maybe he had too much sense to try anything. He was strong, but Jette's fingers were in a perfect position to cause some serious pain in a very short amount of time if their owner so chose.

Jette could feel Songi's chest rising and falling rapidly under his fingers, and it made him somewhat uncomfortable. He moved his hands up a little so that he was gripping Songi around both shoulders instead. He made sure to keep his fingers in a threatening, poised position over the muscles there too, though.

Jette noted, even in his agitation, that Songi's shoulder muscles were quite firm and solid, easily above-average for a man of only nineteen. Right now, Jette bested Songi's almost-six feet by a few inches, but he wouldn't have been surprised at all if he'd end up taller than him when he was done growing.

Songi was quite attractive too, in an odd, juvenile kind of way. He was well-built and muscular from all his training under Biron's law; his eyes were a bright, condescending blue, covered by thick, arching eyebrows; his face was well-proportioned, particularly his sturdy but slender jawline. He could even have been described as handsome, if he didn't always look so infuriatingly arrogant and vain.

There was also something to be said for his hair. It was true that it was red and spiky like Jette's, but it was a good deal darker in color, as well as much longer, thicker and messier. There was also a very short mullet at its back, probably because he'd just been too lazy to spike it up with the rest of his hair.

After a moment, Jette let go of him and stepped back, although he took care to remain close enough to stop him if he attempted to attack him again. Songi looked absolutely livid. To be fair, Jette probably would've in that situation too, but the way the guy's eyes lit up when he was angry...

For a few seconds, Songi seemed too angry to speak, but at last he settled for muttering:

"If you ever do that again, I'll-"

He didn't get any further. Without warning, Jette suddenly leaned forward and gripped Songi's chin in his right hand, squeezing the flesh lightly between his fingers. _Why_ he was doing this was anyone's guess, but he didn't really feel like questioning it right then.

As Songi stared dumbly at him, Jette took his chance and leaned forward, placing his lips against his and kissing him. His right hand still held Songi just above the jaw while his left moved swiftly out and latched onto one of his shoulders, preventing any attempts at escape he might try to make.

But Songi didn't try to escape. It was likely shock more than anything that prevented him from moving, allowing Jette to stay on him for what was at least half a minute. Though neither of them opened their mouths to take the kiss any further, the sensation still made Jette's heart thump excitedly, and his fingers involuntarily squeezed the other man's shoulder a little. Songi's lips were firm and even, and there was an unmistakable sweet taste on them that had probably come from all the sweets he routinely stuffed himself with.

After the half-minute was up, Jette pulled away, almost panting. Songi too was breathing hard, and he looked much the way someone does when you hit them over the head with a shovel. He was staring at Jette with a moronic, blank look on his face. Not that he didn't always look moronic, but still...

Jette, more slowly this time, moved in and once again caught Songi's lips in his. As he did, he moved his hand from his chin to his other shoulder, so as to push him even more firmly up against the wall.

He pressed his head hard to Songi's as though he wanted to burrow into it and kissed him violently. And to his mild astonishment, now Songi actually responded. It was a rather clumsy response, and it was obvious that Songi was nowhere near as experienced as him, but it was still a lot more than Jette had ever expected to get. Then again, he hadn't exactly woken up that morning from his two hours of sleep and expected to be kissing _Songi_ of all people later that day - or _ever_.

Songi weakly raised a hand and buried it in Jette's hair, the hair he had only a few minutes ago insulted so heatedly. Even then, the kiss didn't become open-mouthed, though Jette certainly tried to get it to that stage. There was no real noise either; both men probably would've rathered die than moan or gasp, especially right then.

This time, the kiss lasted for well over a minute, and by the time Jette forced himself to withdraw at the danger growing lightheaded, he and Songi were both definitely panting.

Slowly, Jette let go of Songi's shoulders, and Songi let his hand drop from the scientist's hair. Something inside Jette was screaming at him to abandon all thought and jump back on him, but his more rational side was resisting. What if someone saw them?

Besides, he was too good for Songi. Though he wasn't as narrow-minded as most about doing things with other men, he could definitely do better than _Songi_. The guy was good-looking enough, but he was so pathetic and had such a detestable personality. He wouldn't, _couldn't_, be caught dead with such a person. A shame, really...

Songi, for his part, seemed to be quickly regaining some of his - limited - intellect. He was looking at Jette in an amusing combination of bewilderment and rising anger. Jette, sensibly, hurriedly stepped back so that there was a good several meters between them.

"Wh-What the hell was that?!" Songi demanded, his voice somewhat hoarse. He made no move to follow Jette, perhaps afraid that doing so would lead to more of what had just happened. He did glare at him furiously, however. "You sick weirdo-"

"Oh, don't act like you didn't enjoy it, Songi," Jette said, relishing his growing rage. "If you hadn't liked it, you wouldn't have kissed back, would you? Besides, no one ever has to know. In fact, I'd really prefer it that way. I wouldn't want people to know I'd been kissing... _you_."

At this, Songi looked even more enraged, and Jette smirked. It seemed Songi's ego caused him to take offense at anything, even rejection from a man who had just initiated an uninvited, gay kiss.

"I mean, I know you were wishing I was Gala," Jette said. Oh, how fun it was to bait him... "But you have to admit that it was the best you ever got, right?"

Songi looked close to lungeing at him again, and Jette laughed, completely unfazed.

"I might add that you seemed pretty unfamiliar with the concept of kissing," he went on. "Why is that? You're not ugly." _Far from it, in fact._ "No matter how few girls you had around growing up, someone your age who isn't ugly doesn't remain as ignorant about romance as you are. Not unless they're in denial about something. Are you in denial, Songi?"

"Go to hell!" Songi burst out and actually moved a step forward.

Jette backed away quickly. As much as he wouldn't mind beating up this impertinent brat, he doubted Lord Cort would appreciate it. Songi had his uses, after all.

"Fine, fine," he said, turning away and beginning to walk off. "I'll leave you to read in peace. Someone like you should be studying as much as he can anyway."

For the first time in his life, Songi didn't have a sarcastic retort to throw back.

ZzZzZzZ

Songi walked slowly and carelessly through Jette's Mist-producing fortress, his boots clanking on the hard tiles of the floor. The place would never again create or spread the Mist, nor indeed would anywhere else. Those two kids and that stupid oaf had managed to stop all of it.

Songi didn't really care about the Mist anymore. At first he had; it had left him an orphan and in the care of all those idiotic monks. And it had put him in the path of Gala, who, even though he was nothing more than a thorn in Songi's side now, had still been a huge nuisance for most of his time there.

He felt nothing for the man now, just as he felt nothing for anyone else. When he'd heard about the Delilas siblings' deaths not so long ago, he'd felt a little ounce of something that could've been mistaken for regret at first glance. He hadn't exactly liked them, but they'd been more tolerable than any of Cort's other followers. Not a huge accomplishment, admittedly, but still something.

But what he'd felt when they'd died hadn't been regret, unless 'regret' could be applied to thoughts like, 'Oh great, now I'm stuck with just the mad scientist who has a thing for me and the loud, whiny woman who has a thing for Cort.'

The Sim Ra-Seru he wore had sucked all ability to love and empathize right out of him, and he didn't miss those emotions one bit. Things hurt a lot less when you couldn't feel.

He realized, with some surprise, that he'd walked into the main control room of the fortress without realizing it. He didn't really have to use his imagination to know that this must've been where Jette had met his fate. There were shattered fragments of something that could've easily been parts of a modified Seru lying all over the floor. And Jette _had_ said he'd be guarding this place from the intruders, doing everything he could to protect Cort even if it meant his own death. He'd certainly been dedicated to his leader.

_Hmm. Maybe that stupid woman wasn't the only one who had a thing for Cort._

Songi smiled slightly. They were all out of his way now: Zeto, Dohati, Zora, Jette, the Delilases... Even Cort, though he wasn't dead, was in no position to stop him. _No one_ could stop him now. He was free to put his own plans into action. He didn't know when these plans had come to him, or how they'd come to him, but it didn't matter. They involved power, recognition and finally seeing that pathetic, muscle-bound moron being put in his place.

_"Are you sure you didn't let them win on purpose? I mean, that over-muscled man with the anger-problem... he's your childhood friend, right? Maybe you just don't want to kill him?"_

Songi's smile faded as he remembered the dead scientist's words. Of course, the ignoramus had been wrong; he'd known nothing about how Songi felt for Gala. Maybe they'd been friends once, and maybe Songi _had_ felt something for him that was more than friendship. Not the kind of sick, twisted thing Zora - and probably Jette - had felt for Cort, but more... comforting.

_"Are you in denial, Songi?"_

Songi dismissed the thought. It didn't matter anymore. Jette was dead, and very soon Gala would be too. Nothing else mattered but making his ideas to conquer both worlds into a reality.

_Gala, I don't care about you. I never did. I hate you, and I'll see to it that you die painfully._

**AW! Songi! :( I really do love writing this guy under the influence of Jedo. He's so void of empathy and love, and I really don't think he was like that originally. There's a difference between being an arrogant, rude douche and being an arrogant, rude, psychopathic douche. :'(**

**So... yeah. XD R&R this weird mess if you want. Thanks! :)**


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